Sparkling Curses
by SednaFaux
Summary: Harry, Ron, and Hermione head into the Forbidden Forest after rumours that Cedric Diggory's ghost has been seen walking the grounds. Many problems ensue involving an Edward/Cedric mix up, amnesia, and a drugged caldron cake.
1. Forgotten Muffliato

**This is my first fanfic so I'm not sure what sort of thing works. I'm hoping to add more chapters very soon and would love to hear what you think. Thanks for taking the time to read this and sorry it's so short, seemed like a good place to end it :D **

The trees soared up above the three companions as they made their way carefully into the forest. Every step seemed to bring with it impending darkness that not even their lighted wand tips could hope to penetrate. It loomed at them from all sides, threatening faceless horrors that showed only glimpses of their mutated features, and caused fright at each rustle of the enveloping scrub. They cast around with wary eyes, repenting the decision to accept this most unpleasant of tasks, yet still they continued. Pushing on further along the narrow track, stumbling over misguided branches, they slowly made progress into the heart of the forest. The trees became thicker and the scrub more dense, bringing with it the end of their futile hope for secrecy. The companions fought their way through the under bush, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. The sound of their struggles seemed far too loud in the eerie silence, causing the few inhabitants to flee their homes. Faeries soared past them in frenzy, snagging on the travellers hair in haste, spiders scuttled away from the beams of light, and even a lone hedgehog promptly curled itself into a ball. There was little doubt that their target would have fled before they had a chance to glimpse him; even if he wasn't real. After much continued blundering in near total darkness, they reached the clearing where it was said their prey lurked. Empty. There was no doubt that silencing charms may have paid off.

"Now what are we supposed to do?" Ron grumbled in a barely audible whisper. "Perhaps Dumbledore was wrong. What if we came all this way for nothing?" No reply came from either of his companions as they set off around the clearing searching the ground for any signs of human disturbance. They were reluctant to believe that this was a wild goose chase, because that would back up the many sceptics who said Dumbledore was now too old to decipher fact from lies.

"He may have heard us coming and hidden himself," suggested Hermione hopefully, turning to face him. Ron made an exasperated sound and threw himself down upon the forest floor, taking out a squashed cauldron cake from his bag. Several faeries shaped like leaves fluttered angrily away from where he fell, and several more remained squirming under his weight.

"Hermione, do you really think that this is a likely situation?" he asked. "I mean I can accept that everyone is pretty shaken up about Cedric's death, but these rumours about him wandering the forest at night? They're a bit much for me personally." He stretched out, clearly trying to get comfortable and closed his eyes. He didn't particularly want to see the dead boy walking through the forest at the current hour. Hermione turned, looking to Harry for support and let out a small gasp.

"Harry?" she breathed. She whirled around in wide circle, eyes raking every part of the clearing for a sign of him, but found none. Nothing but his backpack lying discarded on the floor, spilling its contents haphazardly.

"Ron!" she cried out. "Ron, you must have seen where Harry went didn't you? I mean he's probably only in the trees, right? Ron?" Ron was staring at her blankly, seemingly confused by her revelation. His pupils were strangely dilated and a thin trail of drool was snaking out from his open mouth. Hermione slowly approached Ron and prodded him with her lit wand.

"Ron?" she whispered again, checking for a pulse. "Ron can you hear me?" There was no response, but Ron's pulse still beat out a faint rhythm against Hermione's fingers. She gently took his hand into hers and lightly kissed it, seeking some form of comfort. The case of the devoured cauldron cake was still clutched in his pale fingers, and as her lips came into contact with it she tasted a slight tang in the crumbs. This must have been the cause of Ron's current state, but why had someone bothered to drug him? They can't have wanted him out of the way to take Harry as he was already gone. The only logical answer was that they wanted Hermione alone. This was one situation that had never arisen, even though they battled the dark forces on a yearly basis. It was usually Harry who found himself alone. Shivering slightly from the growing chill, she propped Ron's limp head up with her pack, and headed out to look for Harry.


	2. Alone but for a trainer

**How was that for fast? Hopefully it will continue like this. It's the holidays at the moment so I can do these in my (huge amounts) of free time, don't know how it will go when I get back to school. Also as much as I love you reading I would really like just one review. I know it's a pain to do, but I have to make some demands right? So yeah, thanks as always for reading and enjoy! :D **

Now that she was alone, the woods seemed to rise up faster than before. The great trunks of the trees emitted low creaks and groans, as if protesting of the young girl trespassing on their splayed feet. This place in the forest was ancient, untouched, and as she crept onwards she seemed to feel the eyes of many hidden foes staring her down. Her wand hand was shaking- made clammy by the terror threatening inside her chest- and her voice whispering Harry's name quivered. She had always prided herself on logic, and therefore found herself fearful only occasionally; but this was different. The logical thing to do would have been to stay with Ron, to send up red sparks into the night to alert Dumbledore, not to leave the relative safety of the clearing, yet here she was, stumbling around within the Forbidden Forest with any hopes of finding Harry slowly receding inside her chest.

Her feeling of unease seemed to climax with every step she took, and her heart had become lodged somewhere inside her throat a while ago. Muttering voiceless encouragement she forced herself to head further into the darkness. The fleeing creatures of earlier were nowhere to be seen, and she found herself missing their company. It was awful to be alone. Every noise seemed to put her on edge, and she felt terribly defenceless, armed as she was with only a stick. It was true that the stick was one of the most important weapons one could have, but she doubted she could ever use _that_ curse. Well, maybe if the situation presented itself, although she didn't want to consider that. She hated the idea of being a murderer. It would make her no worse than You Know Who himself. What use would it be anyway when Cedric was already dead? It was silly really to think that he could be behind all of this. It could easily have been Voldemort. She shuddered to herself upon thinking his name- it didn't help nerves in this situation. Yet this didn't feel like Voldemort's doing. He always seemed far more direct to her. No, this was far too inventive. Some niggling sense was telling her that this was indeed Cedric, or whatever Cedric had become.

"Harry?" she called in a subdued voice. Even if he was near, she doubted whether he would hear her reluctant summons. She knew that she should shout louder and make herself known, but the words wouldn't come. Her voice seemed constricted from deep within, silenced by some distant power. Turning in a slow circle, she used the wavering beam from her wand to search the visible surroundings. It was hard to believe that the school was only on the other side of the forest. This place was a mess of twisting roots that emerged from the ground in odd places, writhing on the floor like mutilated snakes. She moved on through the alien place, keen to leave it behind whilst stealing frightened glances over her shoulder every few steps. Her footsteps were becoming gradually faster as her dread mounted. Her mind was spinning, twisted by fear. Crooked branches caught onto her thin jumper like clawed fingers, raking slashes in her porcelain skin. She whirled around at each painful touch, shying away from their caresses. Backing away, she caught her foot on a root and plummeted onto to cracked earth. Her breath was coming in short gasps, causing her body to shake in panic. The silence around her had become absolute. It was unnatural and deafening. Panicking, she scrabbled along the dirty floor, trying to get away from hidden threats that her mind made worse. Her back hit the side of a trunk, she was trapped. Her fingers clawed at the bark, willing it to disappear, but the only came away bloody. Her fallen wand was only laying several metres away, but she couldn't bring herself to venture towards it. She was powerless. Pressing herself into the tree trunk for safety she gave a whimper. There was nothing coming for her, yet she was sure something was lurking in the forest; hiding in her peripheral vision, slowly stalking her-its prey. Curling herself into a ball she began to sob. She wasn't ready for this. She wanted to have told Ron how she really felt, to get all outstandings on her OWLS, but most of all she wanted her family. Trembling, she slowly raised her head. There was a slight rustle from one of the bushes, but Hermione couldn't scream. Silent tears trickled down her cheeks, as a snapped twig sent up a sound like a gunshot and a figure lunged out of the darkness.

Harry awoke at the sound of a distant scream. His body felt heavy and he couldn't remember exactly where he was. The only thing that seemed clear was that his head hurt. It was throbbing painfully, and if he tried to move shooting pains ran down his neck. This in mind, he remained still, staring up into the dense blackness above him. He thought he could make out vague shapes in the darkness; a branch here, a rock there, and a pair of glowing yellow eyes. The eyes stared down at him from high above, unblinking and in unwavering in their empty gaze. They seemed intent on him, like they were planning to attack, readying themselves for vengeance. Fire seemed to flicker behind the inhuman pupils, causing them to shrink to miniscule black holes. Harry stared back. There was a connection missing somewhere; lost between seeing the death stare and feeling some form of shock or fear. He observed them with mild interest, soon getting bored pulling faces. The eyes blinked at him, clearly not amused, and Harry stuck out his tongue. There was a tumultuous rustling and the sound of sweeping wings as the owl vacated its perch. It circled above Harry's absently smiling form before deciding that there was much better prey than this around. It wheeled in the air and disappeared above the dense canopy of the trees. Harry let out a small huff, disappointed that the bird had left. He shifted position slightly, attempting to dislodge a stone from his back with little success. Finally after much grunting and shooting pain, Harry found himself in a sitting position aided by a convenient rock. He sighed and settled himself more comfortably humming softly to amuse himself.

Harry must have drifted off again, for when he awoke once more he heard light breathing coming from his left. His 'head' situation had improved marginally since his last waking and he was able to turn it without much pain. Hoping to discover the source of the sound, he shifted his position against the rock to face his left. Harry's eyes widened in surprise at the sight that greeted him, and he found himself utterly perplexed. Before him was laying another boy around his age; he had fiery ginger hair, unfortunate amounts of freckles, and was probably taller than Harry by a good head. The thing that caused Harry's confusion though, was the fact that the boy seemed to be drooling over a battered trainer in his sleep. It was clutched under his face with such possessiveness that it was as if it was a precious possession. Harry frowned. He couldn't work out where the trainer had come from. Both of the boy's feet where wielding shoes and there seemed no other place from which it could have originated. Harry glanced down at his own toes, only five of which were hidden by a single trainer. Strange, he thought, that the boy would be holding a trainer when Harry only had one. It occurred to him that when the boy woke up, he would ask if he could borrow that trainer if they needed to walk anywhere. He smiled, pleased with his own reasoning but wondered what he would do if the trainer didn't fit. The boy wasn't doing much except drooling and occasionally muttering in his sleep, and Harry soon found himself becoming bored. Readjusting his position, Harry slowly shifted his weight onto his feet. He wasn't sure if he would be able to stand, but it was worth a try. Using the rock to support himself, he succeeded in reaching a low crouch. His head was spinning from the exertion, and he gave a wild giggle at the sensation. Pulling himself up the rest of the way, Harry lounged against the rock, admiring his strength. It was really too dark to see much, so he decided to just walk around and hope to find something of interest. Smiling contentedly to himself, Harry left the sleeping boy, staggering slightly from dizziness and the lack of his trainer.


	3. A lag in the storyline

**Yeah, I know its been a while but I've come down with writers block. It's a very serious condition and I'm not sure if it will get better soon. I know that this is very short, but I need to work out how to go on, and my Dark Lord was pestering me to update- I think she likes my comments better than the actual story. I'm working on another fic about Dumbledore and Grindelwald which will be uploaded soon, so keep your eyes open. Also, sorry that nothing much happens. The drama will come soon I swear! Thanks as always...**

**DISCLAIMER (since I have forgotten before this point): I don't own these characters no matter how well I know them. If I did I doubt this story would be on FanFiction and you'd all know who I was ;D**

Harry had been blundering about for a while before he realised that he was exhausted. His head had begun to pound again, but he had ignored the strange sensation. Dropping to sit cross legged in the floor, he surveyed the leaves at his feet with a mild interest. They looked like the skins of tropical fish laid out to dry. It was then that it occurred to him that he couldn't remember entering the forest. How strange, he pondered, pushing the thought aside as quickly as it had come. The fish-leaves under his fingers were beckoning his caress. He crunched them in his palms, smiling at the noise they made. He rifled through them looking for brighter colours to be illuminated by the moon's beams, and was soon settling back into the sweet fog encasing his mind.

He sat there for some time before he began to feel uncomfortable. It wasn't the sort of physical discomfort that one commonly gets, but an uncomfortable prickling in his neck that suggested he was being watched. Cocking his head slightly to one side, he mused that maybe those yellow eyes had returned. He scanned the border of his clearing distractedly, but could find no trace of the watcher. He was alone as far as the eye could tell. Settling back down, he resumed his thoughtless trance, now dreaming of yellow eyed fish.

Hermione had no idea where she was. She was completely and utterly disorientated. Awaking from her blackout had been a mildly painful process, and she still felt the remnants of the curse clouding her vision. It was- as always- far too dark to see, and she reasoned that until her head had cleared there was little to be done except think.

Remembering was particularly hard. She had been so overcome with terror that her mind had lost all of its main functions with the exception of the ability to cower. She recalled how she had known there was danger and started running. How the clawed fingers of the trees had ripped at her skin and forced her to back into their sprawling feet. She could see the pale figure slinking from the shadows, the wand being drawn with eerie grace from their back pocket; and finally, the flash of scarlet light that illuminated an unmistakable face. Cedric.

The shock of seeing him had only hit her once she woke. It was impossible, he was dead. She had defended Dumbledore yes, but it was only for Harry's sake. She couldn't bear the thought of him having to deal with yet another's demise. Her attempts to trick herself into believing that it was a trick of the light were failing miserably. She couldn't ever deny what she had seen. Of all things, she trusted herself. She had never been wrong, and now, more than ever, she was certain.

It was impossible to know how long she lay trapped within her thoughts. Time could have ground to a halt, or sped up to the speed of light for all she knew. A stray hair caught by the breeze tickling her cheek finally aroused her enough to move.

Hermione sluggishly opened her heavy eye lids and lifted a hand to swipe the hair from her cheek. It clung there, stuck to some substance covering her features. She moaned softly, dreading having to look at her hand. Bringing it up before her face, she felt her stomach clench. The normally pale skin was streaked with deep crimson, and dirt stained the creases of her fingers. She had never been good with blood. She fumbled around her person, looking for the one thing that could improve the situation, but her wand was inexplicably absent. Panic crossed her mind, before she remembered her current situation. What use would it be anyway? If Cedric wanted to kill her, he was going to do it anyway. No matter if she fought back or not.

The morbidity of her thoughts surprised Hermione as she had never been one for giving in. It was a true show of her state that she was about to break. She gently lifted herself to sit, with the decision that she would rather try and find out where she was than lay there like Ron would have. Ron, she remembered with a flutter of her heart, what would Cedric do to him? Now it seemed clear that it was Cedric who had poisoned Ron and taken Harry. For some unknown reason he wanted revenge. The simple thought of Ron in danger seemed to alter something within Hermione's sagging frame. She forced herself to sit up further and hold her eyes open so they would become accustomed to the dark. If there was any way she could help Ron, she was going to find it.


	4. I know that I suck

Hi everybody,

No, I haven't died or been involved in a serious accident. There is no excuse for why I haven't updated, except that a hell of a lot has come up.

The past few weeks have been crazy and things aren't scheduled to improve. I've got like four concerts and school stuff to work around so I'm probably not going to get anything done. I'm really sorry, and if I get time I will try and write :S

The school year's nearly-ish over, so there may be a wait but then I'll work this out. Things should start to look up, and I know I suck D:

Hope you all don't hate me too much,

Love Ellie

:(


End file.
